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Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Dawn Goodwin
  3. WHAT I NEVER TOLD YOU
  4. Copyright
  5. Contents
  6. Dedication
  7. Prologue
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. Acknowledgements
  55. About the Author
  56. An Invitation from the Publisher

I want to think they’ll miss me, but I know they won’t. That’s not how we do things. “Sure, I’ll be fine – and you’ll have a great time.”

She squeals like a little girl and throws her arms around me. I flinch and stiffen, but just as I’m about to return the affection, she launches off the bed and I’m left feeling like a hung sentence.

“I must start planning,” I hear her say as she dances from the room.

7

NOW

Monday morning, 06.15. Helen sat at her dressing table and sipped on a glass of tepid lemon water, cursing herself for draining Hugh’s wine last night. It had left her dehydrated enough to sleep restlessly and meant there was now a tiny hammer tapping at her temples. The swirling wallpaper behind the mirror hurt her eyes, so she looked at her reflection instead. She’d fared relatively well for her age, but her skin was slackening and the lines on her brow were deepening the further into her forties she went. She looked away from the reflection of a face she struggled to recognise some days.

She pulled on her swimsuit, feeling the Lycra catch momentarily on her loose belly, then smothered herself in a thick bathrobe before slipping her feet into slippers and creeping downstairs.

The cold air blasted her as she opened the French doors in the kitchen and headed out into the garden. The trees and shrubs were fighting against each other for air, like grappling hands and scratching fingers. She rushed down the garden, the cold chasing her the whole way, and let herself into the glass pool house. It was much warmer inside, the air humid and thick, but dark because ivy covered most of the windows. Helen liked it like that though, secretive, isolated, keeping the darkness in. She didn’t even bother to turn on the overhead lights. Instead, she dropped her gown, kicked off the slippers and slid into the warm water. Extravagantly, the pool was kept heated all year round so that it was always the perfect temperature for her daily swim. That was one indulgence battle Hugh hadn’t won.

She emptied her mind as she pulled herself through the water, gliding and reaching, the minutes melting away. After half an hour, she climbed out, feeling more energised, her mind calm for now.

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